


Cross-Country Booty Call

by shana0809



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2013-01-07
Packaged: 2017-11-24 01:09:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shana0809/pseuds/shana0809
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jordan has a business idea. Taylor's there to consult.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cross-Country Booty Call

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thearctic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thearctic/gifts).



Taylor lets his fingers drum on the steering wheel absently. He's finally reached Regina--despite that little mishap around Winnipeg--and he's not too impressed with Jordan's home town. There's not a whole lot here from what he can see. It goes from farmland to city, if he's being charitable. If he's being honest, it's not that much of a city, especially for someone from Ontario.

The remnants of the snacks he's eaten on the trip from Kingston litter the passenger seat, and he can practically hear Ebs complaining. Maybe he is. Regina's not _that_ big, after all. He honestly can't believe that Ebs wants to sell him on having their headquarters out here. Of course, first Ebs has to sell him on the idea basing their whole operation out in the middle of nowhere.

Sure, it sounds great. They're going to be marketing hockey equipment, junior hockey, and hockey charities in small towns, but Ebs hasn't really told him how exactly it's supposed to _work_. And Ebs's argument that Regina is perfect because it's like in the middle of the country or something is total bullshit. For one, he's pretty sure Winnipeg is in the middle of the country; he's heard about the winters and mosquitoes, so Ebs better not even think of suggesting _that_. Regina doesn't seem much better though.

Second, he's totally not buying Ebs's garbage reasoning that the prairies are an underdeveloped market. He's not sure that anywhere is actually an underdeveloped market for hockey, and besides, what do people have to do out here? All they do is play hockey and grow shit, and they can't do the latter when there's snow on the ground.

"Dial Ebs." His phone is hooked into his car's Bluetooth. He's going to be paying for this car for a while, but it's his gift to himself for actually getting his shit together enough to graduate. Ebs hasn't seen it yet, but he's going to lose his mind when he does. It's a million times better than Ebs's beat up farm truck.

"About time you called, you jerk!"

"Well, you told me it was a city. I'm not sure I've actually found a city yet, but all the signs say Regina. I thought I should phone and check."

"You're a non. You need the directions to my place again?"

Taylor glances over at the passenger seat, shifts a half-eaten bag of Cheetos out of the way, and shoves a couple gas receipts and candy wrappers for good measure. "Nope, I've got them right here. I'll see you in a few."

"Yeah. I'll lock the doors."

"Order something good, will you? I've been driving all day, and I'm hungry."

"When are you not hungry, Hallsy? You're always eating. And I don't even want to see the shit you've got in your car."

"Shut up, asshole. See if I drive to the middle of nowhere to work on a start up with you that you won't tell me dick about and I might not be able to even sell again."

"It's hockey and Canada, Hallsy. It'll sell."

"It's hockey and Canada, Ebs. Hockey's not exactly an underdeveloped market. Just because neither of us went pro doesn't mean this'll work either. There's a tonne of shit out there. You remember that from your Junior days. I haven't heard of us doing anything revolutionary. Hockey just might not be our meal ticket."

"We don't have to do something no one's ever done before, you non. We just have to do it better than they're doing it. Now shut up, stop talking shit, and pay attention to getting here because if you get lost and have to phone for directions, I'm going to laugh. A lot. And maybe I won't tell you."

"You're an asshole, Ebs. Has anyone told you that today? I have no idea why I put up with you. It's not like you even put out regularly. Like why am I driving across half the damn country for you and your dumb ideas?"

"If you actually manage to get here, I'll show you why."

"Jerk."

"Drive, Hallsy. There's a time limit on the offer."

Suddenly, there's dead air where Ebs just was. "Did you just hang up on me? Ebs? Are you there? Damn it! Jordan? You just hung up on me, you asshole."

He concentrates on Ebs's stupid directions with half his mind and puts together a speech with the rest of it about what a non Ebs is. Because seriously, only Ebs would believe he was so much of a distraction that Taylor couldn't talk to him and drive at the same time.

Ebs doesn't take that much brain power to deal with.

He gets lost one time, but he'll never admit it to Ebs, and it's actually the fault of Ebs's ridiculous directions. They're totally designed to get him lost so Ebs can laugh at him. Or else Ebs is just dumb and can't give directions. He likes the second one more right now.

"Dial Ebs."

Ebs answer after the first ring. "Jesus, you took your sweet ass time getting here. The food's totally getting cold."

"Desperate much? Since your piece of shit truck is in your parking spot, where should I park?"

"The visitor's parking is like that last four stalls in the lot. Just pick one."

"All right. Be ready to buzz me up. You leave me standing outside, and I'll just turn around and go home."

"Bullshit."

"I would."

"No doubt you're dumb enough to actually do it, but you'd never leave without dinner. You're like a black hole."

"And you're like a jackass. Oh wait! It's not like when you're stating a fact. See, I learned something in school. You _are_ a jackass."

"Weak, Taylor. That was weak, and you know it."

"Still true."

"Hurry up and park, for Christ's sake! There are only four spots. Jesus. I _will_ leave you out there."

"Is that like sending me to bed without dinner?"

"Who says there's going to be a bed involved?"

Seeing Ebs for the first time since they both graduated from York University three months ago is great, but the grin on Ebs face, the one that says Taylor's definitely getting laid tonight, is better.

Ebs's shitty little apartment is small, he's still got half his shit in boxes, and it looks like a frat boy lives in the other half. And, Ebs has hockey shit spread out over what little open space there is. Just like when they Skype. Taylor feels right at home.

"What do you think of Regina?"

Ebs sucks at small talk. Taylor's told him often enough to just shut up, but Ebs is kind of slow.

"It's as lame as you."

Ebs rolls his eyes, not appreciating Taylor's wit. 

"Just because you don't understand the prairies doesn't make them lame. It makes them cooler than you. Grab yourself some food, sit your ass down, and I'll tell you all about why I'm right."

"Dude, you couldn't bother to clean up?"

"It's not as if you haven't seen it before. The pizza's in the kitchen. The plans are in the living room."

"And the action's in the bedroom?"

Ebs is sighing like Taylor didn't just make the best joke of the night. Ebs just can't enjoy the finer things in life.

"Eat, you idiot. Maybe if you shut up, you'll get laid tonight."

"I drove from Kingston to see this shit. I should hope I'm getting laid tonight." Taylor's past caring if he sounds like a whiny brat. Withholding sex isn't playing fair.

"I'm the one that'd have to fuck you, so shut your face. I've got the basics of the business plan set up, so grab a plate and move your ass."

Just to mess with Ebby's head, Taylor grabs a paper towel and a couple of pieces of pizza. In the living room, Ebs has the basics of the junior promotions side of a hockey business down. It's not a really developed part of the game, but that's changing, and Ebs obviously wants in on that.

"Think you can sell it? We're going to need money for it. And I thought I told you to get a plate."

"Shut it, Jordan. I'm thinking about this. I need to look at what you've done here. Bitch about my dining habits later."

Ebs waits for him to look over the proposed business, the proposed streams of revenue, and doesn't say jack. Taylor's grateful for that.

"I can tell you did like the least amount of marketing you could when you went to school."

"Whatever, Hallsy. I can run a business. I have you to sell it."

"We're going to need a face for it. Someone who isn't a washed up junior prospect that never made it to the big leagues and some market research about the Dub, the O, and the Q that doesn't start 'when I was playing', but we _might_ be able to make this work."

"Of course we can. It's brilliant. Not even you can screw this up."

Taylor ignores Ebby's pathetic attempts at chirping him. "Do you miss it?"

"You're an ass. Of course I miss it. Every damn day. There's nothing I wouldn't give up to still be part of the show."

"Yeah. Me too."

"Thanks for that, asshole. I try not to think about what I can't have anymore."

"Yeah, whatever. It's totally your fault. I never told you to bring feelings into it. I know what we should do."

"Oh?"

"We should totally just go fuck and come back to this in the morning when we can think straight."

"Seriously, that might be like the first smart thing you've said like ever. Finish your damn pizza."

"Don't rush me, Ebby. I drove a long way for this pizza."

"You drove a long way for some shitty pizza you could have ordered at home?"

"No. I drove a _really_ long way for some really shitty pizza that I couldn't order at home because the pizza's better there, half a crazy business plan, and a couple of nights of really great sex."

"Fuck you. I'm not some cross-country booty call."

"I'd be more than happy to prove that you really are."

"You're not that good in bed, Hallsy. No matter what the guys with whom you shared messy handjobs in junior told you."

"Since you were one of those guys, you'd know, huh?"

"Just shut up and come to bed, you non. You're less annoying when all you're doing is moaning. Maybe I won't regret inviting you if you make it really good."

 

Fini.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for happyhockeydays, but not revealed
> 
> Thanks, as always, to liroa15 for the beta.
> 
> Request was for domestic or a cool AU. Regina's cold, okay?


End file.
